


At the Beginning

by Doranwen



Series: our fate before us [1]
Category: Push (2009)
Genre: Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 10:24:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4431668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doranwen/pseuds/Doranwen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the first day of the rest of their lives.  Cassie and Nick deal with things in the aftermath of the film's events.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At the Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Biggest thanks ever to thedevilchicken, who listened to me brainstorming and rambling, and helped with details (even if her search history ended up looking a little weird). This fic would not exist without her help.  
> Also thanks to AlterEgon for the quick writing beta and help with treatment of wounds!
> 
> Title borrowed from the song by the same name.

Cassie curled her right arm around Nick's side as he leaned heavily on her shoulder. She snuck another peek at him as they stumbled their way off the building lot. Yup, he looked pretty banged up, but he'd probably recover just fine. But just to be sure . . . She closed her eyes after taking note of the pavement ahead, and attempted to look at Nick's future. She nearly tripped when the images of Nick lying on the ground, severely beaten, passed in front of her eyes. "OK, tell me why I just Saw you all beat up?" she asked.

"Huh?" Nick's concentration seemed to be more on where he put his feet than on coming up with a coherent answer.

"Just now, I Saw you. Lying on the ground, looked like you'd been pounded on."

"Uh..." he began.

"It's not Division, or you'd be dead or in custody. So it has to be someone local. Who else wants to hurt you that didn't get killed here?" She thought her logic was rather sound. Clearly the Pop family was out, at least.

Nick sighed. "The guys I owe money to, they promised to beat me up. I ran off before they could."

Cassie snorted. "Gambling again?"

"What do you mean, **again**?" He glanced at her, forehead wrinkled in mock indignation.

"I'm the Watcher, remember? I had to Watch you a few times before I could figure out exactly where you were and when to be here," she pointed out. "You did an awful lot of gambling. And given the lameness of your powers at the time, I'm going to suspect you sucked at that, too."

Nick rolled his eyes. "I did not suck at it."

" **How** much do you owe them?" Cassie asked.

Nick glanced away from her as he muttered, "Twenty-one thousand."

"I rest my case." She grinned up at him.

He only shook his head with a smile. "Well, if our luck holds, we'll be able to find a taxi pretty quick," he said.

Cassie looked around; they were finally back to a main road. "Luck?" She raised her eyebrows at Nick. "There's no such thing as luck with a Watcher. It's all choices and probabilities."

"Oh, I don't know about that. I think luck is hoping other people's choices match what you want to have happen. As for watching, Watch this," Nick said, grinning at her as he waved at a cab coming up on them; it slowed and stopped.

Cassie sighed at the pun and left Nick to stagger to the door on his side while she walked around to the opposite door. "Do they know where you live?" she asked once she'd settled into her seat.

"Not that I know of, but I wouldn't put it past them to find out."

She nodded. "Then you can't go back to your apartment."

"What about my clothes and the duffel?"

Cassie tilted her head slightly, thinking. "Text Hook and tell him to meet me at my hotel room in an hour, then give me his number and I'll text him where."

Nick nodded slowly. "That might work."

"Might?" Cassie's voice was incredulous.

"OK, OK, will likely."

"Better."

Cassie leaned her head back and let her mind drift for a few seconds. She would have appreciated the chance to relax, except for the wave of emotion creeping up in the next moment, poised to suffocate her. She turned back to the mental training that had kept her alive so far, the voice still as clear in her head as when she first heard it years ago: _"When you're feeling overwhelmed before you're in a place where you can deal with it, you need to push it aside. Take deep breaths and focus on the next task."_ She inhaled and exhaled slowly, and started to plan out the rest of the night.

* * *

Nick struggled to follow Cassie to her room, especially since they seemed to be going some back way that was rather convoluted. He was about to ask her why when he passed a pane of glass with a bit of extra shine to it, and caught sight of himself, covered in cuts with bloody streaks down the face. _Not conspicuous at all, nope._ He attempted to walk normally on his right leg when they passed the occasional other person, but resorted to limping whenever possible. It was a relief to close the door to the room and sink down in a chair.

"Take your jacket off," Cassie ordered.

Nick blinked. "I could swear I just heard you tell me to take my jacket off."

"That's because I did, dumbass," she called, back turned as she soaked a towel in the sink. "I need to check for injuries."

"I'll be fine," he said with a sigh.

She whirled around, setting the towel down on the counter. "Whatever, off with it," she demanded, tugging at one shoulder of the garment. He started at the touch. "Relax, I'm not going to jump you," Cassie said with a little laugh.

 _I did not need that mental image_ , Nick told himself, closing his eyes briefly. He decided not to persist in another battle, however, especially with an opponent as determined as this one. He shrugged the black jacket off his shoulders, letting it fall on the floor next to the chair. With one swift motion, he slid the shirt off and dropped it on top of the jacket.

"Here, take this and wipe yourself down," Cassie said, handing him the damp towel. "You've got blood all over your face." Nick didn't bother to respond to that, concentrating on cleaning off the grime that had accumulated during the fighting. "Turn a little that way," Cassie told him, nudging his shoulder. A pair of fingers lightly pressed into the side of his back. "Hmm, you've got some nasty scrapes. Stay there."

"Can I at least see my face in the mirror?" he called to her.

"It'll wait," came the reply from across the room. "Besides," she said, footsteps coming up behind him, "I've already got the supplies ready. Turn so you're sitting facing the back of the chair."

Nick risked a glance at her. Cassie looked back impassionately, fingers of one hand wrapped around a bag of cotton balls while the other hand clutched a bottle of antiseptic. He sighed slightly and complied. _I'm not getting out of this_ , he thought with a hint of amusement. He hissed at the first touch of a cotton ball to his back, but was surprised at how gentle she was as she cleaned the raw skin and taped gauze to cover each patch.

"So where do I find these guys you owe money to?" Cassie asked.

 _Ow_ —"What??" Nick turned to look at her, halting the sting of the antiseptic as Cassie paused. "You are not going to talk to those guys by yourself."

"Turn **forward** ," she commanded, shoving the errant shoulder towards the back of the chair and resuming treatment. "Besides, I won't be by myself; I'll take Hook with me."

"I can just go talk to them tomorrow," Nick insisted. His back felt like it was on fire, and he had to resist twitching with every swipe of the cotton ball.

Cassie's hands stilled, and Nick twisted his neck to look back at her. Her eyes were closed for a minute, then flew open and blinked rapidly. "No," she said, voice flat. "You can't." She didn't elaborate.

Nick wondered what she had Seen, but didn't press the point, turning his head back so she could finish. "OK," he said at last, and began to explain where to find the gamblers in question. By the time he finished, Cassie was putting the final tape on the gauze.

"All done," she said softly. "You should probably go lie down. Hook will be here soon." She put the supplies back away and pulled out her sketchbook, sitting in another chair and beginning to draw.

* * *

"So what did you need me for?" asked Hook.

Cassie glanced over her shoulder at a sleeping Nick as she closed the door and started walking down the hall, Hook at her side. "Right now Division thinks he's dead, but at some point they're going to figure out he isn't, and when they do that, they'll have Sniffs on him like crazy." Hook nodded, and she continued. "I'm pretty sure Kira will find a way to get rid of the toothbrush they picked up from him the other day, but his apartment is full of things they could use. Plus a duffel bag with our payment."

"Our payment?"

"Pop family paid off the Stitch to disable Nick at his apartment; the money's still sitting there." Cassie paused and sighed. "As well as the Stitch."

"I see," said Hook.

"The last time I Saw her she was dead, so that's probably what we're going to find."

"Wonderful."

"Which is where you come in." Cassie scanned the area. _Good, no one around to overhear._ "I need you to get into a chemical supply place and pick up some hydrofluoric acid and protective equipment. It needs to be diluted to 40%, 50% at the most."

Hook blinked. "I can do that." He paused a moment, thinking. "OK then. You want me to meet you at his apartment?"

"Soon as you can. I've got to get some stuff packed, and I need to have you go with me to pay off some guys Nick owes money to. After we apply the acid, probably."

"Sounds like a plan. Hopefully one no Watcher is tracking," he added.

"I don't think so; hopefully not." Cassie tilted her head and shrugged. "We'll see. Anyway, see you there."

A bit of a walk and a taxi ride later, Cassie was climbing stairs to avoid the video surveillance on the elevator. The key she'd snagged from Nick before he fell asleep, and she pulled on a brand new pair of latex gloves before inserting it and letting herself in. She wrinkled her nose at the odor, and was unsurprised upon flicking the lights on to see the Stitch sagged against the ropes tying her to the chair, a deep red stain across her shirt. As far as bodies went, however, she'd seen worse. The guy at Big Joe's who got shot in the head, or the two losers of the knife fight. This was really not that bad. She focused on breathing through her mouth and set about poking through the dresser drawers.

By the time Hook arrived, she had the money distributed between the duffel bag and a backpack, with clothes stuffed on top. Twenty-one thousand lay in her bag, tied in a bundle. She'd gone through the food on his shelf, pulling out some packages to toss in the bag. She was midway through a cookie when he knocked on the door. "These are good, want one?" she offered as she finished hers.

"No thanks," Hook said, a slight grin at the corners of his mouth. "Here's what you wanted," he said, laying the items on the floor.

Cassie examined the supplies as he set them down. She nodded. "That should do it. So here's what we do." She began to explain the procedure to Hook. Partway through applying the solution, Cassie slipped out of her gear and dragged the duffel and backpack outside to guard while she waited for Hook to finish. He closed and locked the door, holding the key out to her. "Put it in the container," she told him.

A circuitous route back in the taxi with an impulsive stop to drop the container into a trash can—Cassie decided that would confuse most Watchers well enough. A brief stop to see Yeung and Chen—who were quite willing to forgive Nick's lapse in payment when they saw the green paper Cassie pulled out of her bag and flashed before their eyes—and everything was done.

Back in the hotel room, Nick barely stirred as she dumped the money onto her bed and counted it up. "Two million. Nick'll want to be in on dividing it among everyone. Call you tomorrow and meet up then?" Cassie rubbed her eyes. It was well into the night, and she hadn't gotten a full night's sleep last night either.

"That works." Hook gave her a nod and turned to go.

Cassie shoved the money back in the bag and slid it under the bed, eyeing the pillow longingly. She was **so** tired—but she could also feel the grunge on her skin. Not changing underwear in two days was not her idea of good hygiene. Shower it was, then. She started to relax as the hot water sliding over her skin combined with the knowledge that the night was actually done and over with. They had succeeded, when she was sure they would fail. Now what?

* * *

Nick slowly drifted out of the fog of sleep. Somewhere he could hear water running . . . a shower, it sounded like. He couldn't find any desire inside himself to move, even to open his eyes. He lay on his side. His back had some sort of bandages on it—vaguely he recalled Cassie with a bottle of antiseptic—and his front felt like it was one solid bruise. Actually, it probably was, considering the fight he'd been in.

The water stopped, and a few moments later the door opened. He heard the bed creak slightly as she sat on it. He would have drifted back off to sleep if his ears hadn't caught it a few seconds later—the tiniest catch in breathing. He struggled to open his eyes, then propping himself on one arm as he swiveled his neck to look at Cassie. She sat a few inches back from the edge of the bed, knees drawn up to her face, slim arms wrapped tightly around them, and face buried. Her body quivered all over.

Nick's heart twisted a little. _Oh, Cassie._ Gingerly he sat up and got out of bed, hobbling over to her. "Hey," he said softly, laying a hand on her shoulder as he sat down on the edge of her bed. Cassie lifted her head up enough for him to catch sight of tears streaming silently down her face. Before he knew it, he was tugging her far shoulder over, tipping her against him and smoothing her hair down her back. "What is it?"

There was a long silence, punctuated only by slight gasps as Cassie's body shuddered. Gradually her breathing evened out and she lay limply against his shoulder. "It's not a big deal," she said, half-whisper. "I just can't let myself feel everything in the middle of it all, not if I'm going to be able to keep going, and then it all comes out later, when it's over and I'm safe."

Nick frowned slightly. "You've done this before?" He was a bit vague, but figured Cassie understood what he meant.

Her head bobbed a little, bumping her forehead against his neck. "Division isn't the only thing that likes to prey on children, you know? Thankfully I could always See it coming and dodge them." Nick's skin crawled as she went on. "At least most of the time they didn't kill me in the visions."

Nick's fingers tightened around her involuntarily, the horror of that thought paralyzing his tongue. It was strange to think that two days ago he hadn't known who Cassie was, had no idea which girl would give him a flower. He would never have expected someone like her.

Cassie pulled away, and Nick released his arms. She studied her hands for a few seconds, then looked at him. "Thanks."

Nick nodded. His stomach chose to growl at that moment. Cassie grinned. "I saved a few of your snacks from being eaten by the acid."

"Thanks, I'm starved." Nick stood up to go find the food, then abruptly paused, turning to look at her. "Wait, acid?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah, doused everything with hydrofluoric acid, should throw off any Sniffs pretty thoroughly. And make it harder to identify the Stitch."

The revelations were coming too quickly for him. "Wait a minute, what happened to the Stitch? And where did you learn about hydrofluoric acid?"

Cassie gave a tiny sigh. "The Stitch was shot. If I had to guess who, I'd say probably Pop Girl. She had enough time to do it plus incentive. As for the acid, I learned about that from a contact of my mom's, stayed with him for a while when I was 9. Guy used to teach chemistry; taught me all the ways to keep Sniffs from tracking someone."

"You definitely had a more unusual childhood than I did, and that's saying something," Nick told her. Cassie's answering laugh made Nick grin. _I think that's the first I've heard her laugh._ It was a good sound.

* * *

Cassie's eyes fluttered briefly before opening. The bed had felt wonderful after the incredibly long day yesterday. She sat up slowly and looked around the room. Nick had dumped the money on his bed and was sorting it into various-sized piles.

"Morning," he called over to her with a grin.

"Morning," she croaked in response. She slipped out of bed and went to splash some water on her face. It was so very good to be alive after the past couple of days. She eyed herself in the mirror. _OK, that's going to take a little work._

She stepped out of the bathroom a while later just in time to wave goodbye to Emily. "There, just waiting on Hook," Nick said. "He's talking to a guy about getting us some IDs that'll let us travel without raising red flags anywhere." He paused for a minute, eyes suddenly full of amusement. "How do you feel about the name Gertrude?"

Cassie snorted. "Ha!"

Nick's grin widened. "We'll get whatever he comes up with. And hopefully be able to deposit this money somewhere so we don't have to try to carry it ourselves." He gestured to the bag half-hidden under the bed. From her perspective, Cassie could still see bills in it. "Over half a million for each of us."

She blinked. "Not bad."

"Of course, you **were** off a little, but I think I can forgive that lapse in accuracy."

 _What?—Oh._ "Hey, to be fair, you thought I was making all of it up." She wasn't about to tell him that she'd only had one glimpse of a bunch of money, and it had faded quickly in the midst of all her visions trying to stay alive.

"Yeah, yeah." Nick waved his hand mock-dismissively. "I figure we can go get something to eat once we've taken care of the money. Until then . . ." his voice trailed off as he snagged another package of junk food and tore it open.

Cassie shook her head and grinned. It was surreal sometimes, to look over and realize she was finally talking to him. Cassie was used to seeing people she didn't know in visions, and she frequently met them (or dodged them) soon after. But the first time she had Seen Nick, she was only three years old, and asking her mom who the daddy was that was shoving his boy through the wall. (It wasn't until Nick told her about Division killing his dad that she had been able to put all the pieces together.) Throughout her childhood she had visions of him—alone, scared, increasingly isolated. He had no close friends and gambled badly.

But interspersed with those images of the near future, she would get the occasional glimpse of them—together. Walking, talking, laughing. In her darkest, loneliest hours she clung to those mental pictures, sure that in the future they would meet, somehow. When she started to see them more clearly, she recognized they would meet up soon, and drew hundreds of pictures, trying to figure out where she needed to be. She had been so afraid, underneath the habitual act of confidence, that she would do or say something wrong that would push them apart before they could team up properly.

At least she'd had the flower to help. Three-year-old her didn't understand why it was important to give that boy a flower (for that matter, neither did thirteen-year-old her), but she had promised her mom that she would, and it seemed to work. She would have given him a flower immediately, but it felt too weird. She had to at least **try** to get him to agree to help without it.

"So where should we go next?" Nick asked, interrupting her thoughts.

 _We._ Cassie inwardly sighed with relief. Most of her visions had showed the two of them together after that, but there was always the chance that Nick would change his mind. And after so long of being alone, she really wasn't ready to go solo any time soon. "Haven't seen anything in particular. How do you feel about Europe?"

Hook soon arrived with the bare minimum of documents, and Cassie was glad to note that her name would be Michelle, not Gertrude. One bank, a restaurant, and a few weeks later (long enough for their passports to arrive), they were on a plane headed for Munich. Her head leaned against Nick, and an arm slipped around her shoulders. She still wasn't sure how they were going to get her mom out of Division's hands, but they'd figure it out somehow, she told herself as she drifted into sleep.


End file.
